Blindfolded
by Jennifer Campbell
Summary: No matter how hard he tries, Doctor Helm cannot see the woman behind the mask.


**Title:** Blindfolded  
**Author:** Jennifer Campbell  
**Fandom:** Queen of Swords  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** The characters of Tessa, Vera, Don Hidalgo and Robert Helm don't belong to me. I make no money off this.  
**Summary:** No matter how he tries, Doctor Helm cannot see the woman behind the mask.  
**Notes:** This story was written in 2001 for Queen of Swords Weekly Challenge No. 36, for the Queen of Swords fanfic mailing group.

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"Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?"  
-- Christopher Marlowe

The supply ship arrived two days early, and all of Santa Helena emerged into the hot afternoon, leaving behind the shade of their haciendas and shops for the celebration. The town square took on the trappings of a festival, spilling over with smiles and laughter. Money flowed in exchange for those things the town normally did without: fresh fruits, bolts of shimmering cloth for the ladies and new knives for the men.

From his well-worn seat outside the tavern, Doctor Robert Helm watched it all with a curious detachment. Usually, he would walk among them, filling his bags with medicines and supplies. But on this day, he felt less like shopping and more like finishing his bottle of whiskey. Then maybe he would stagger home and pass out.

"Beautiful day, don't you think, Doctor?" Don Gaspar Hidalgo stood at his side, smiled in his usual cheerful manner and bounced on the balls of his feet.

Helm grunted, but Gaspar only grinned wider. It was obvious he had some purpose in mind and would not be so easily deterred.

"The supply ship is here and all the town has come out for it, yet you are merely watching," the don said. "That is strange, don't you think?"

"I notice you're not out there, either." Helm's voice sounded dull and uninterested to his own ears.

"That is because my Vera is doing our shopping today. I find it best to stay out of the way. Do you mind if I join you?"

Helm waved to an empty chair. He did not particularly feel like entertaining company, but Gaspar had a certain look in his eyes, one that indicated he would accept no refusal. Better to endure than fight it, Helm thought.

Gaspar lowered his bulk onto the offered chair and dabbed his forehead with a silken handkerchief. "It is exhausting, coming out into this heat, but Vera insisted." He pointed toward the crowd. "There she is now, talking with Senorita Alvarado. Those two have become so close, lately."

Helm nodded and sipped his drink. Mostly, he wanted the don to go away and leave him to his dark mood. Yet Gaspar eyed him with keen intensity.

"When a man sits alone drinking," Gaspar said, "it is usually one of two things: money or women. And because the good doctor does not want for money, it must be a woman that makes you so glum. Hmm?"

Helm gave him a bewildered look. "Is it that obvious?"

Gaspar wagged his finger and grinned. "Ah, you see, I was right. I know that look. I have seen it in the mirror too many times in my life. There's such a hopelessness behind the eyes." He peered more closely at Helm. "Bloodshot eyes, too. Either you're not sleeping or you're doing too much of this."

He gestured behind them to the tavern. It took Helm a moment to understand what he meant: too much drowning of sorrows. Well, maybe that was true, but the habits of a soldier linger like a virus. He had resolved to put it all behind him, but now she had him drinking again, and even killing. He had broken his most sacred vow to save her life, yet she did not trust him enough to share her secret.

"Doctor?" Gaspar leaned forward, concerned. "Are you all right? You're suddenly very pale."

"I'm fine," he said curtly, then drained his glass and poured another drink.

"If you want to talk about it …"

"Thank you, but with all respect, I'm not in the mood."

Gaspar nodded. "I understand. Woman troubles are a sensitive, personal matter. Take my Vera, for example. She keeps secrets, and she thinks I do not know what she does when she says she is meeting Maria Teresa in town for lunch. But I am no fool who does not know his own wife."

Helm choked and spewed whiskey across the table. He suddenly felt much more sober. "You know?"

"My pedal is beautiful, young and impetuous. She makes a game of it with Captain Grisham, but if she knew I knew, it would kill her. He is more handsome and energetic than me, and perhaps Vera needs that. But as time passes, her infatuation will fade, while our love will endure."

Helm could only stare in amazement. "You are a tolerant man, Don Hidalgo."

"And a discreet one."

Helm heard what he did not say: _You can trust me, Doctor, as I have just trusted you. If I can keep this secret from my wife, I can keep your secret as well._ Maybe he could. Here was one of Santa Helena's most powerful and respected dons at his table, offering his friendship. He would be a fool to reject him. Helm made his choice.

"At least you have all the information," he said. "No more secrets. The woman I love, I don't even know who she is."

Gaspar breathed out a soft sigh, like a puff of wind. "Ah, I see now. It is the Queen you drink for."

Somehow, the don catching on so quickly did not faze Helm this time. He spoke quietly, everything coming out in a rush. "When I first realized that I loved her, when I knew I would do anything for her - even kill - I started to look for her. Surely she must be among the town's women I thought, and if I truly loved her, I would know her, with or without the mask." His voice turned harsh. "That was months ago, and still I know nothing."

"What is it about her that you love?"

Helm closed his eyes to visualize her. "Most women are bred to be submissive. There's no spirit in them, or if there ever was, their fathers beat it out of them at a young age. The Queen is different. She sees injustice, and instead of standing by, she takes on a dangerous persona to fight it. There is no gain for her, but she does it anyway." He sucked in his breath as a vision of her came to mind as he had first seen her - tied to a post, helpless yet still defiant. "I knew all that the first time I laid eyes on her."

A sympathetic smile tugged at the corner of Gaspar's mouth. "Who ever loved that loved not at first sight, hmm?"

Helm nodded, although he had not realized the truth until this moment. "Yes, that's right. I loved her at first sight."

"And when you search for her, what do you look for?"

He shrugged. "The obvious traits. Height, body type, long dark hair."

Gaspar chuckled. "That's all? No wonder you cannot find her."

"No, I - I know how she moves, like a wild animal. I know her voice and her scent, and the passion in her eyes."

His voice trailed off. This was almost too much, too difficult to talk about.

"I think," Gaspar said, "I know your problem."

"Oh, well, please share, Senor, how you know more about it than I do myself."

If Gaspar noticed the sarcasm in Helm's voice, he did not acknowledge it. "When you tell me what you love about her, you speak of intangible things - her spirit and selflessness and sense of justice. Yet what you look for is physical. You need to look beyond that, to search for her soul and not for her body."

Helm blinked. It sounded like such a simple concept, but how would it work? How did one go about searching for a soul? Doctors worked elbow-deep in the physical every day, staunching wounds, setting bones and measuring medicines. To look beyond that might prove an impossible task.

He shook his head. "I just don't know."

"It is the best advice I can give you, my friend." Gaspar looked toward the square, then smiled and waved. He called out, "Ah, my pedal, come and join us."

Helm watched with only mild interest as Vera and Senorita Alvarado approached, both resplendent in their fine dresses. Vera carried a basket of goods, but all Tessa held was a flimsy parasol to keep off the midday sun.

They were so different, like day and night. Yet even for her darkness, Tessa's smile was radiant, and it seemed, as the women came closer, that she gave that smile entirely to him. Helm shook himself. The alcohol must have rattled his brains more than he thought. The flighty daughter of a don would not pay any special attention to a crabby town doctor. Even if she did, he had no interest in her mindless sort of chatter.

Both men stood to greet the ladies, Helm unsteadier on his feet than Gaspar. If anyone noticed, they had the grace not to say so.

Gaspar gave his wife a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Did you find everything we need?"

"Of course." Vera wrinkled her nose and pouted. "Don't you trust me, Gaspar?"

"You know I do." Gaspar nodded at Tessa. "Have you not bought anything today, Maria Teresa? Surely the ship brought something for you, hmm?"

"Marta has our things in the wagon," Tessa said, gesturing behind her to where her servant waited. "We'll be leaving shortly, but first I must speak to Doctor Helm, in private."

Helm blinked at that. A single lady seeking the company of a man was unusual at best. "Perhaps you would accompany me, Senorita. I must return to my office."

She smiled brilliantly again. "Of course, doctor."

Before leaving, Helm nodded his farewell to Gaspar and his wife. "If you would excuse us. And, thank you, my friend."

"My pleasure, doctor."

Helm offered his arm to Tessa, and they started off to circle the crowded square. He could not help but notice the senorita had dabbed on too much perfume that morning. As a rule, he preferred women who did not mask their natural scent. Like the Queen. Still, Tessa at his side felt strangely comforting, with a certain rightness to it. The whiskey must have had something to do with that.

"I wanted to get away from Don Hidalgo and Vera before making a request," she said. "I have no wish to embarrass my foreman in polite company. He has dysentery and cannot come to town."

Helm relaxed. She wanted to talk business and that he could do. "I'll come by your hacienda later this afternoon. Is that soon enough?"

"Yes. Thank you, doctor."

"Then if that is all, Senorita, I must take my leave."

They stopped in the street, people passing around them. She met his eyes directly, and for a moment, the vapidity vanished and he could see more - exhaustion, confusion and even sadness. It was a look some patients got when they had something important but difficult to tell him.

The silence hung between them, Helm not quite sure what he was waiting for. Tessa drew breath to speak, then changed her mind and snapped her mouth shut, her eyes flashing with anger. Helm was overtaken by an overpowering sense of déjà vu. He had seen that before. He almost swayed under the power of it.

Her anger passed as quickly as it had come, and so did his déjà vu. She released his arm, her fingers lingering. "Later this afternoon, then, I'll expect you."

She swept away without another word, and he could only watch her retreat in dumbfounded confusion. What had just happened? What had he said to provoke those flashes of emotion? Perhaps he had imagined it. Cursed alcohol.

No matter, really. He had more important things to think on, the most important of which was his conversation with Don Hidalgo. If he changed his approach, could he really find her? Could he unearth the Queen's secret and finally know her without the mask?

Probably not, he thought as he opened his office door, his gaze straying unawares toward Senorita Alvarado as she and Marta drove their wagon out of town. Some blinders were not meant to be lifted.

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The end


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